Clint: “And Sitwell put you under house arrest to keep you out of the game… because?”

You: “Don’t know. That’s why I had to break out of the tower. To find out why.”

Clint: “And to kick the living shit out of the Mandarin.”

You: “Yep.”

Clint: “This makes zero sense.” He sat back, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why put you under house arrest at all? Why not involve you?”

You: “My assumption is Sitwell’s hiding something. What that is, I don’t know.”

Clint: “So what’s the plan?”

You: “The plan is to investigate the Airbase, see if we can find a clue as to where Nat went. And maybe find out who really bombed it.”

CLint: “I thought the Mandarin claimed it?”

You: “He did. But Tony found out that it wasn’t one of his. The metrics were to different from his usual bombings.”

Clint: “So you think it was someone else?” I nodded. “You don’t think… S.H.I.E.L.D. had anything to do with it… do you?” I sighed, shrugging my shoulders as I did.

You: “Honestly I don’t know what to think. At this point anything is possible.”

???: “Hey back there.” As we talked, the pilot called back from the cockpit. His head popping out from the doorway. “If y'all are done talkin, the drop zone is comin’ up.”

Clint: “Drop Zone?”

You: “Appreciated.” The Pilot returned behind the curtain as I stood, slapping Clint’s knee as I did. “Come on.”

Clint: “Did he say Drop Zone?” Clint stood as well, following me closely as he continued to ask me to confirm his suspicions. “(Y/N)? Did he just say Drop Zone?” I just ignored him as I made my way to the cargo door, smacking the button to open the cargo ramp. The wind howled as the hold depressurized, the bright, desert sun shining red through my visor. “YOU'RE FUCKING KIDDING!” I turned back to him, finding the blood to have drained from his face.

You: “You’re telling me that a guy codenamed ‘HAWKEYE’ is afraid of heights!?” I yelled over the rushing wind.

Clint: “Ofcourse not!” He yelled back. “I’m afraid of FALLING from Heights!” I rolled my eyes as I slapped a hand over his shoulder. He stiffened like a board, yet shook like a leaf.

You: “Relax Clint! It’s just like sliding down one of your grapples….. Just without the wire!”

Clint: “That’s what bothers me!”

You: “Fine! You don’t have to come!”

Clint: “Really!?”

You: ‘Sure!” As I patted his back, I took notice of something outside. “Hey Clint, you know a lot about birds right!?” he nodded. “What kind of Hawk is that!?” I pointed out into the desert. He leaned out a bit, narrowing his eyes to try and catch sight of the bird in question.

Clint: “What Hawk!?” That’s when I kicked him out. “AAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

You: “Guess it was a screaming Hawk!” I yelled down to him.

Clint: “YOOOOOOUUUUUUUU DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCCKKKK!!!”

JARVIS: “Was that necessary sir?”

You: “Oh shut up JARVIS. You know that was funny.” I snatched one of the parachutes from the wall before leaping out myself. I streamlined my way down, catching up quickly with Clint’s flailing, still screaming body. The moment I closed the distance between us, he immediately latched on to me, wrapping his legs around my waist as his hands locked behind my back.

Clint: “Youdicki’llfuckingkillyouhowdareyoukickmeoutofagoddamnplaneareyouinsanewhatifIhadfallenallthewaydownhowwouldyouhaveexplainedthattonat!?” He just kept rambling. On and on and on and on. So much so that I decided to drop him again, spinning in a corkscrew to force him to release, then opening my arms and legs to catch the wind, watching as he once again began flailing and screaming.

JARVIS: “You do intend to save him before he hits the ground, don’t you sir?”

You: “....Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence J.” Again I streamlined down, catching up with with Clint very quickly, catching him once again, and again he wrapped his arms and legs around me. Once together, I clipped him into the parachute, and pulled the tab. As the chute opened, He began calming down, reducing his whining to a dull whimper. “You gonna behave now?” He nodded violently. “Good… you big baby.”

Clint: “dick.” He mumbled.

You: “Oh like I was really gonna let you fall.”

Clint: “You kicked me out of the plane!”

You: “Because you wouldn’t jump on your own!”

Clint: “Because I didn’t want to! Why couldn't the pilot land!?”

You: “Because we’re in Kuwait you moron! The Ten Rings would have shot it down! And I guarantee you wouldn’t survive that fall!”

Clint: “....oh.”

You: “Yeah, oh. Now brace yourself.”

Clint: “...For wha..?” We tumbled to the floor, rolling apart as we slid down a sand dune. Once we reached the bottom, I stood brushing off the sand as Clint struggled to release himself from the chute, being pulled along as it caught the wind.

You: “For the love of… come on Clint.”

Clint: “Bite me Crimson Jackass.” He struggled to unbuckle himself as he was lifted back into the air, ramming against another dune and kicking sand up and back into his own face.

You: “Want some help?” He sighed, his body going limp as he was dragged along the dune.

Clint: “Yes please.” I walked up, pulling one of my blades and slashing across the cables of the chute, causing it to immediately take off into the wind. “Thank you.”

You: “Mmhmm.” He stood, dusting himself off as we walked.

Clint: “Do you have any clue where you’re going?”

You: “Of Course I do.” I tapped my visor. “Or, that is to say JARVIS does. We didn’t land that far from the base anyway, so it’ll be a short walk.”

Clint: “Why do I get the feeling that isn’t remotely the case?”

You: “Because you’re a paranoid mess. Now come on.” I slid down the side of another dune. “We only have so much sunlight left.” I heard Clint groan above me, but he didn’t argue. Instead sliding down behind me and walking to keep pace. “JARVIS?”

You: “Just keep walking.” He shrugged, walking ahead of me as I ripped the visor off. Holding it under my arm as I ran a hand through my (H/L) Hair. This was going to be tedious.

As we walked, I fiddled with the Onboard JARVIS chip that Bruce had installed. Trying to force the system to reset manually rather then go through the tedium of an Onboard Reboot. The sun did set sooner then I had expected, leaving the two of us in the dark and cold of the desert night.

Clint: “Im freezing.” As usual, Clint was whining.

You: “Should have brought something warmer.” Despite the New York Winters being know for being harsh, Clint has still opted to wear some sleeveless purple get-up when he had attacked me. Now, in the freezing temperatures of the desert, he was visibly shaking. His teeth chattering as he rubbed his hands against his arms.

Clint: “I didn’t expect to be walking the desert at night (Y/N).”

You: ‘The base shouldn’t be much farther now. Once we’re there we can set up camp and start searching in the morning.” To be honest, I wasn’t doing much better either. My suit at least was a compressed full body suit. It provided some warmth, but hardly enough to last through more then the night.

Clint: “It better be.” He muttered, before returning to simple silence. As We walked, the sounds of desert crawlers could be heard all around us. The occasional snake or scorpion scurrying across our path, illuminated by the moonlight. “This is freaking me out. Ah! Camel Spider!” Indeed, the large creature scurried past us as Clint nearly stepped on its tail, disappearing into the night.

You: “Relax, they’re more afraid of us then we are of them.”

Clint: “Doesn’t mean they won’t sting us. Or bite us. Or poison us in any general way they can.”

You: “You need to chill man. Generations have crossed these deserts without being killed. We will be just fine.”

Clint: “Alright then ‘Moses’.” He mocked. “Just where exactly are we crossing to?” As he yammered, I heard a faint buzzing.

You: “Clint.”

Clint: “Cause I’m pretty sure you have NO idea where it is your going at all.”

You: “Clint shut up.” I slapped my hand over his mouth. “Do you hear that?” He paused, tilting his ear to the sky.

Clint: “Yeah… Sounds almost like… Get down!” He rushed me, shoving us both to the ground as an ATV flew overhead, jumping the dune we were standing behind and landing on the dune opposite. We stood, and followed the sight of the ATV to its apparent destination.

You: “Found it. Or, what’s left of it.” The small air base was in shambles, tons of rock and metal strewn about, even several days after the initial bombing. Holes littered the walls to many of the buildings. And swarming around it were a handful of mean with what looked like flashlights and Assault rifles. “You didn’t happen to bring some binoculars with you?”

Clint: “Not per say.” I turned to him in question, only to be answered with him notching an arrow, and firing it into the tallest building he could. He then pulled a small screen from his pocket. Switching it on to give us a live feed.

You: “A camera arrow? Really?”

Clint: “Shut up and look.” I did, but it didn't mean I wasn’t making fun of this later.

You: “Recognize any of them?” The camera panned slowly, the image tinted green by the night vision the camera apparently had. There were barely a handful of men, 3 we could immediately see. Plus the one that had tried to run us over, and an additional the we believed we saw walk inside.

Clint: “Nope.”

You: “Well that rules out S.H.I.E.L.D. then. Scavengers maybe?”

Clint: “I’d argue it’s too late for them to be scavengers. You said this bomb went off a week ago. Scavengers would have picked it apart and left by now.”

You: “Maybe… wait.. What’s that?” I pointed to one of the men in particular as he walked across the screen. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing a large tattoo on his forearm.

You: “Wonderful. I can’t understand a word your saying. Just set the Visor to manual system for now.

JARVIS: “Certo signore.”

___: “Manual system active.” Well at least that was running properly.

You: “You want to run a ‘Jack Daniel’?” I asked Clint.

Clint: “Well there's a blast from the past. I haven't heard that code in years.” I smirked under the visor. “A ‘Jack Daniel’ is a bit risky. What about a ‘Tennessee Honey’?”

You: “It’s not snowing Clint.”

Clint: “So? Sand is the snow of the desert.” I sighed heavily.

You: “Only you… what about a ‘Patron’?”

Clint: “I can dig it.”

You: “Alright. Silently this time please. I don't want a repeat of Germany.”

Clint: “You're not letting me live that down are you?”

You: “Never.” I took off running, moving around to the side of the partially destroyed base. I scaled the wall, then jumped down the opposite side. One of the men was turning the corner away from me as I did. It was simple enough to grab him and knock him out as Clint fired an arrow, knocking out the other man that was walking up behind me. After dragging both out of the way. I dashed around the side of the Base’s Church. Tackling another of the men to the ground and bashing him on the head with the butt of his own rifle. As I checked the gun for ammo, Clint came around the opposite side of the structure.

Clint: “I don’t remember this strategy going by so smoothly.”

You: “That’s because you used to run it with a sniper. That bow doesn’t make as much noise.”

Clint: “I assume you want one of these guys awake to interrogate?”

You: “Assuming JARVIS’ speech processor is working properly when we catch them.”

JARVIS: “Mă ocup de asta, domnule.”

You: “Which apparently it isn’t yet.”

Clint: “.....Ok then. On Three?”

You: “One.”

Clint: “Two.”

You/Clint: “Three.” We both broke into a run from behind the church. Each aiming for one of the two remaining insurgents. As they caught sight of us, they turned their rifles to open fire. Clint fired an arrow, connecting with the Barrel of one of them, blasting the gun to pieces.. While I threw my knife at the other, embedding it into the barrel of theirs. They fired, and the round recoiled and split the barrel down the middle. With both knocked to the ground and our Rifle and Bow pointed at their faces, they both raised their arms in the air.

You: “They found Natasha. He’s taking us to his boss, he’s with her now.”

JARVIS: “khadhna alan.”

???: “qitaeanaan.” The man and his associate stood, arms still raised in the air. “Please to follow.” He struggled to speak n broken english. His accent thick. We nodded, and the two turned to lead us away from the base, back out into the desert. Our weapons remained pointed at their backs, never wavering.

Clint: “You realize they’re leading us back out into the desert?”

You: “It’s worth the risk. They have Nat, and information we need.”

Clint: “I just hope you know what you’re doing (Y/N).”

You: “Yeah…. Me too.”

The walk to the encampment the Ten Rings had set up was surprisingly short. Not ten minutes after we left the base did we come across a small area, surrounded by tents with a decent sized fire in the center. There were a handful of other men walking the perimeter, and as expected they rushed us with their guns pointed when they saw us approach.

Clint: “What is it?” I leaned over slightly towards Clint. Trying to get as close as possible without spooking the group.

You: “They said, we bring the Red Sword.”

Clint: “I think they mean you.”

You: “Thank you Sherlock.” I groaned. After another brief moment or two of murmuring, one of the guards departed into the camp, while the others remained blocking the way. Neither Clint or myself dropped our weapons. And neither did they. Eventually, the one that left returned with someone new. An Arabic man with a hook nose, a massive burn scar on the right side of his face, and a bullet wound in his neck. He took notice of us, then our weapons, and smiled.

???: “There is no need for those.” He waved to our weapons. “We are all friends here.”

You: “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe. The last time I dealt with the Ten Rings, I nearly lost my leg and you nearly killed my brother.” He chuckled, shaking his head lightly.

???: “'iikhmad dhiraeik. hula' hum 'asdqa'.” The guards began putting their guns away. The sounds of cocking mechanisms being disengaged ringing in the air. “Proof enough?”

You: “.....For now.” Clint and I retracted our own weapons.

???: “Come. We will discuss what you want to know Mr. Stark.”

You: “You know me?”

???: “There are few in the middle east that do not know the Crimson Blade. Come.” He turned, leading us to one of the larger tents in the area. We followed, and entered as he held the tarp open for us. Once inside, I took notice of the person laying down on the opposite end. Asleep in a cot with a bandage across her head.

You: “Natasha..” I rushed over, my visor popping open as I knelt down beside her.

???: “We found her about a week ago like this. We’ve done everything we can to bring her back to health. But she refused to wake.” I turned back to him, taking notice of his serious expression.

You: “You kept her alive?”

???: “We are not all monsters like the Americans portray us. We feel sympathy, love, compassion.” He took a seat in a chair off to the side, waving at two others opposite him. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.” Clint was first to sit, and after a reluctant moment, I joined him. “Now. Am I correct in assuming you two are here regarding the bombing of the Air base.”

You: “I think before we answer that, introductions are in order.” I slipped my visor off, setting it in my lap as I stared the man down. “Who are you?” He sighed, rubbing at his shaved head before answering.

Raza: “My name is Raza Hamidmi Al-Wazar. I am the lieutenant in charge of the investigation here in Kuwait.”

You: “Raza…. I know that name.”

Raza: “You should., I’ve had dealings with your friends and family before.” He pointed to the burn scar on his face. “Courtesy of your brother.” Then to the bullet wound. “And of your associate Obadiah Stane.” I chuckled.

Clint: “So your the one that attacked our convey in Afghanistan?”

Raza: “If your convoy was the one protecting Tony Stark.. Then yes. I am.”

You: “I’d say the wounds are well deserved then.” I took notice of the bullet wound in his neck. “I take it Stane was trying to hit your brain stem then?” He nodded. “He always was an awful shot.”

Raza: “Indeed. I hope, Mr. Stark, OUR discussion will not end as violently as they had with them.”

You: “Well that depends on you… and whether or not you’ll let the three of us leave.” I gestured to Clint and Nat.

Raza: “Oh… the three of you are free to go.. My employer has no quarrel with the Starks at this time. No, we have a much more problematic issue at hand.”

You: “And your employer is?”

Raza: “All in good time. In fact everything comes to bear. Now, back to my original question.”

Clint: “Yes.. we’re here because of the bombing.”You: “How is the Mandarin involved?” Raza leaned back, tenting his fingers as he inhaled deeply. “Your thug mentioned a ‘Fake’ Mandarin?”

Raza: “Yes… The ‘Mandarin’ that the American government is dealing with at this moment.. Is not the True Mandarin.”

You: “So there is no Mandarin then?”

Raza: “I can assure you Mr. Stark. There IS a Mandarin. My employer in fact. In fact, he is the reason we are having this conversation at all.”

Clint: “The Mandarin want’s to deal with us?”

Raza: “Well… more specifically, him.” He pointed to me.

You: “Me?” I questioned. “What does the Mandarin want with me?”

Raza: “Nothing. He wants to work with you.” I arched my brow in question. “The Ten Rings has many members, all over the world. Spies that tell the Mandarin all that happens. We were aware of the Theatre bombing the moment it happened. And we were aware of the attack in Malibu the day it occurred. These occurrences, in addition to your apparent connection to the red haired woman.” He gestured to Natasha. “Leads us to believe that you Mr. Stark would like to find out exactly who is behind all this.. And to destroy them.”

You: “That doesn’t answer why the Mandarin wants to work with me.”

Raza: “Because the Mandarin has been enraged my this ‘false’ Mandarin. Strutting around on Television, proclaiming himself the leader of our cause.”

You: “So you want me to find him.” He nodded.

Raza: “This is a rare moment of the Mandarin’s interest aligning with yours. An Instance you should not take lightly, or dismiss.”

You: “And you expect me to just agree? To work with someone that attempted to kill my only remaining family?”

Raza: “Do not forget that was on contract from YOUR associate Mr. Stark.” He sighed again, calming himself before continuing. “At this time, the Mandarin is willing to offer you conditions.”

You: “In return for?”

Raza: “A name.. Nothing more. This Mandarin will outst himself soon enough as a facade. We have no doubt of that. But we are having trouble finding out who he is. If you find out who he his. The conditions will be met.”

Raza: “You are a businessman after all.” Raza smiled. “In return for the name of this false Mandarin. The True Mandarin is willing to offer complete amnesty. The Ten Rings will have no further conflict with the Stark Name. Your company, your family and anyone you name, will be left alone.”

You: “...Is that all?” He smirked.

Clint: “You’re not actually considering this are you?”

Raza: “What else do you want?”

You: “I want transport. Safe Transport back to the states for the three of us.”

Raza: “Done.”

You: “And I want everything you know about the bombing here in Kuwait. Along with everything else you know regarding this false Mandarin.”

Raza: “For that.. We would want the name and location.”

You: “Done.” Raza stood and we shook hands. Then he left, assumingly to collect the information I needed.

Clint: “You’re kidding me right?” I turned to Clint. Finding him exasperated beyond belief. “You’re not seriously making a deal with a terrorist are you?”

You: “We need a way out of Kuwait. That plane was only meant to get us here and I have no other way to get back. And this way, we get some info we would have otherwise had to collect ourselves. AND, we have Nat.” He sighed, clearly still unsure of what to do. “This isn’t the first time we’ve made deals with foreign powers.”

You: “I don’t either man. But I don’t have much of a choice. I need that info. And this way the Ten Rings won’t bother us anymore after this is over.” Raza returned, a manila folder in his hands,

Raza: “The information you requested.” He set it down on one of the chairs. “We are organizing your transport back to the United States as we speak. It will take time.”

You: “That’s fine.”

Raza: “Funny. How the only time I have a civil deal with the Stark’s, is with the trained soldier.”

You: “You can go now.” He nodded his head, and left. I sighed, then turned back to Natasha, still asleep in her cot.

Clint: “I’ll give you a minute.” And he left without another word. I walked back over to her, kneeling down and brushed some of the loose hair from her face. There was a blood stain seeping through the bandage on her head. I’d have to remember to change that. Still I smiled. I was just happy to see her alive again.

You: “Please wake soon sweetheart. Cause I have something for you when you wake up.” I felt into one of my belts pouches, the small black velvet box cradled inside.